


The Lord's Chambers

by JonsaInTheNorth



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 02:05:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7489095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JonsaInTheNorth/pseuds/JonsaInTheNorth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m having the Lord’s Chambers prepare for you.”<br/>“Mother and Father’s room?”<br/>-S6, E10</p><p>Sansa retires to her rooms after her first day back home is done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lord's Chambers

Sansa stood in front of the the heavy wood door, observing it in its entirety. It was a newer door than the one she remembered, with shining iron bars holding it together and a not-yet-worn knob waiting for her hand. Of course, it made sense. They had to replace most nearly everything when Theon burnt Winterfell to the ground.

The Lords of the North and Knights of the Vale had called her brother King in the North, but when they realized that Jon sought Sansa’s advice first of any councilor he had, none dared not call her Lady Stark. And so, despite her protests to her brother, she had been guided to her lady mother and lord father’s old chambers.

She set her hand on the door knob, and took a deep breath. No one else stood in the empty hallway. It was devoid of life, so unlike the castle she had called home all those namedays ago. And there was no one was there to observe the empty look in her eyes when Sansa finally twisted the knob and pushed her way inside her parents’ chambers.

A gasp escaped her lips when she opened the door. It was not what she was expecting. In the center stood her parents’ bed, the carved direwolves still running around the edge, the posts towering to the ceiling. It looked smaller now than it had when she was a child and sat at Catelyn’s feet, watching her mother sew as Eddard read or handled his accounts.

She stepped further in, taking in the Stark banners hanging from the walls. No decoration remained from the days of Walda Frey and Roose Bolton. But very little remained of her family, either. Neither her mother’s carefully stitched tapestries, nor Ice across the chest at the end of the bed decorated these rooms. Not her father’s writing desk or her mother’s chair by the roaring fire. 

It was too much. The emptiness of the room threatened to consume her, even though it was furnished like a proper Lady’s apartment. No matter where she looked, she only saw her father’s head on a pike, her mother’s worry as she waved her daughter goodbye for what they did not know was their last time. Sansa turned and stormed out, refusing to look back at the room that held so much yet held so little.

No tears threatened to escape her eyes, though sobs burned in her throat. Her old chambers were now Lady Lyanna Mormont’s, and she would find no solace there. She ran through halls and chambers, winding through the place that had been her home for so much of her life. 

She had never stood before this door before, especially not like this, although she always knew where it led. Trepidation weighing down her heart, she knocked. Sansa was unsure who would answer, although she knew he would always be behind this door.

Jon’s eyes widened when he saw her, his lips parting slightly. “Sansa? Is everything alright?”

“Yes- no.” She said, wringing her hands. “Can I- can I come in?”

“What’s the matter? Are your rooms not in order?” His brow furrowed as he shut the door, genuine concern filling his eyes. “I told them to-”

“I can’t sleep there, Jon.” Sansa admitted, feeling foolish as she said the words. “Not when there are ghosts in every corner.”

“I understand.” He sighed, and sat down on his bed.

Sansa glanced about her, finally noticing how simple his room was. Besides his bed, there was a writing desk in the corner and a fire in the hearth. Above that, their family’s banner hung. A rug was splayed on the floor, the only other decoration.

She sat beside Jon, carefully arranging her skirts so they did not brush his legs. Quietly, she said, “They were lovely, though.”

“I don’t know where we may put you, though.”   
  
“I know, we’re overfilled as it is.” She had helped him assign the Knights and Lords to their chambers after he insisted she take the most prominent ones. She tried to move him there, once they called him King, but he would have none of it. “I likely won’t sleep tonight, however comfortable my chambers may be.”

The sobs that had threatened to break when she saw her parents’ bed finally did.  Sansa closed her eyes, willing herself to be strong. When Jon wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against him, she cared no more for mummer’s strength. Here, where she was safe, she let the tears fall. She let the pain wrack her body as she clutched his tunic in her hands, staining it with her sadness.

“I miss him too. I miss them all” Jon said, rubbing soothing fingers against her back. “I can’t stop thinking about them, either.”

He was the last person she thought of as family, once. But now he was the only one she could hold onto, the one person who was chivalrous and good, noble and real, honorable and  _here._

By the dying embers of his fire, Sansa held on for all she was worth, thinking that she would never let go of Jon again. For all that he was baseborn, he was still her brother and still a Stark. With winter there, that was all that truly mattered anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out and fangirl about Jonsa and other ASOIAF/GOT goodness with me on [tumblr](http://jonsa-in-the-north.tumblr.com).


End file.
